


This Little Light of Mine

by flinchflower



Series: Slash Me Twice [43]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Schmoop, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-04
Updated: 2011-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-26 20:44:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 43: Sam and Dean stop in a hotel room after a hunt.  This prompt is outside of the arc that's been going on for a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Little Light of Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not for profit, simply a writing exercise. Herein lies Dean/Sam slash, in an AU timeline where John did not lose his life. John appears in parental context only. Follows in series from previous prompts, but stands alone if preferred.

Both boys hustle into the hotel room, despite the fact that they’re both soaked to the skin from the continuous downpour of rain, dodging the lightning that’s crackling ominously across the sky. Both of them are cranky, and as they throw the bags across the end of the bed Dean scowls at Sam.

“Shower. Go.”

“Dean-“

“If you get sick again…” Dean lets the words linger, and Sam trudges off, not particularly interested in arguing, for which Dean is thankful. They’d split up with their father several days ago after Sam recovered from his thankfully brief bout with the flu, and the hunt they’d been involved in was both dirty and frustrating. Dean wonders briefly if having to cope with the pissed off spirit of a librarian in a moldy library, getting slammed into bookcases and walls will put Sam off of libraries for a while.

Sam doesn’t take very long in the shower, just long enough to take off the chill and make sure the mold spores from the abandoned building are washed off along with the mud from the grave. It gives him enough energy to smile as he exits the room, towel wrapped around his waist, when Dean tosses a sweatsuit to him at the same time as he pitches the dry towel to his brother. More Winchester-speak. _Dude, thanks for not taking forever, don’t make me mother you by telling you not to hang around in this fucking cold room without something warm on. Hey man, thanks for letting me warm up, and for not yelling, I left you a towel even though they’re worthless._ Dean doesn’t take very long either, and when he emerges, it’s to find that Sam’s fired up the rickety coffee-maker they keep in their gear to use in the shabbier motels. This one’s not bad, an inn that’s been around at least a century, yet still has private entries, but it doesn’t have much in the way of amenities.

He dresses in silence after poking at the inadequate heating unit, and glances up to give Sam a quick grin, because even though he’s not a cuddler, there’s no doubt he’ll be grateful to have Sam’s warm body snuggled up to him tonight. Sam’s eyes sparkle a little as he hands his brother a worn travel mug filled with hot chocolate. The first sip has Dean moaning a little in appreciation – Sam must’ve had some Jack Daniels stashed somewhere, because Dean was pretty sure he was out. As a matter of fact, the fact that he closed his eyes means that he misses the remote Sam tosses at him, and now the brat’s chuckling.

He simply raises an eyebrow in reply, and Sam busies himself unzipping a sleeping bag and throwing it over the bed before he shivers and crawls under the covers, clutching at his own mug a moment later. Dean double checks the salt line he laid while Sam was showering and the runes Sam established, and crawls in himself, waiting until Sam sets the mug down to gently swat the boy’s thigh under the covers.

They exchange a look, and both burst out laughing. Dean picks up the abandoned remote and clicks the television on, flicking over to a channel that’s re-running old Buffy episodes, which neither of them object to, since they can both drool over the hotties and snicker at the ineffective methods, even though they’ve both protested to their father that it’s good for their training. Sam gives a little shiver, and Dean doesn’t even think about it, just reaches over and pulls the boy in close, making sure the covers are secure around both of them. His hand rubs idly up and down Sam’s arm as they both stare at the screen, tired, and mesmerized by the blue glow of the TV in the dim room as they finally start to feel warm.

Both of them jump at an enormous crack of thunder, and then their voices ring out with twin curses as the electricity flickers and dies entirely. Dean’s voice continues the litany of swearwords as he tells Sam to stay put, and leans over the edge of the bed, snagging up his bag. It’s only a few seconds before he has an emergency candle lit and shielded in a candle lantern, and Sam’s eyes seem to glow in the light.

“You bring your sleeping bag in, too?” Sam’s voice is cranky, but Dean can tell it’s not directed at him.

“Yeah. You think we need both?”

Sam shrugs. “Rather zip ‘em together and not find out.”

Dean basks for a moment in the aftermath of Sam’s excellent idea, then gets up to unfurl his bag, and get the two flannel and synthetic down sleeping bags joined together. Sam’s hands bump into his, helping out with the rough spot where the zipper always catches into fabric, and then he’s crawling out of bed with some heartfelt curses so they can tuck the conjoined bags between the sheets so they can have the benefit of the thin motel comforter as well. Sam’s thoroughly shivering once they climb in, and Dean snorts and pulls all 6’4” of his baby brother in close. For all the heat Sam seems to put out, the guy sure does get cold easily, maybe he shouldn’t waste it being such a furnace, Dean thinks, but he’s really not going to object, as cold as the room’s likely to get before morning. They’re out in the boondocks, and he has no faith that there’ll be power before they head out in the morning.

Sam wraps himself around Dean like a starving starfish, and rests his head on Dean’s shoulder, breathing quietly, hoping Dean’s not going to object. He relaxes the rest of the way when his brother presses a kiss to the top of his head, and he turns his head up, hoping for something a little less chaste. He’s not sure if the low rumble of Dean’s voice is a laugh or if he’s said something, but it doesn’t matter, because the kiss itself knocks what little thought had been there before it started right out of the boy’s head. Sam has just enough wits left to mumble a question about the candle.

“It’s in the candle lantern, Sam. It’ll be fine, we’ve got plenty of candles for it.”

Sam relaxes into his brother’s firm hands, which are stroking gently down his back, cupping around the tight curves of his ass. He doesn’t like being in the pitch dark, is glad Dean remembers, and tries to show his appreciation through the next kiss.

The only thing is, it’s been a hellaciously long day, and as the two men warm up, and tense muscles relax under the familiar touch of one another’s hands, both of them drop off to sleep before anything more interesting occurs. Dean drifts off slightly after Sam, and thinks to himself that he’s just glad to have him safe and warm, and that there’ll be plenty of time in the morning.


End file.
